Getting Down: A Handsome Bob PWP
by AngelOfLorien
Summary: Handsome Bob, essential member of the Wild Bunch, has decided that instead of being 100% in favor of men, there are still certain things about women he enjoys as well. Georgia works at HQ and is more than capable of helping Bob with his nostalgia. PWP one-shot. HBxOFC. Rated M for Language and Sexuality.


**A/N: I just have a lot of Handsome Bob feels, ok? lol **

"Oi, Prof! Can we get some more drink?"

Georgia Hart looked up from her books and nodded at One-Two, snatching two bottles from behind the counter and crossing the room to the table where the Wild Bunch was playing poker. She refilled One-Two's scotch and poured Mumbles a fresh bourbon. "Getcha anything, Handsome?"

"Better cards?" He grinned up at her and she smiled.

"Sorry, love. Fresh out. Especially with Mumbles dealing."

"What's those brainiacs at university got you working on tonight, Professor?" Mumbles asked, taking a drag from his cigar and shuffling the cards.

"Writing a paper on Stephen Crane."

"Who's that?"

"American poet," Bob answered. The others all looked at him. His brows furrowed. "What?"

"How the fuck do you know who that is?" One-Two asked.

"Unlike you, mate, I read."

Georgia laughed and leaned over Bob's shoulder, resting her chin as she draped her arm across his chest. "Want to write my paper for me, then?"

He glanced back at her. "Wouldn't be fair to the rest of the class."

She laughed again and patted his chest, giving his earlobe a teasing nip with her teeth as she straightened. "Selfish."

She made the rounds at the other tables and headed back to her books, but she wasn't quite able to keep her eyes from traveling back to Bob every few minutes. He laughed a lot. It was a shame for females everywhere that he was gay-well, for the ones he hadn't slept with before. She smiled to herself as she surveyed the table. Poor One-Two was the last to know that Bob mostly fancied men, and it had been a shock to his system when he had found out. It wasn't that he hated the gays, really. He just didn't like when anything changed. Georgia thought he was going to have a stroke when they'd gotten rid of the janky jukebox that had sat unused in the corner for ages. Anyway, nobody really mentioned anything about Bob because it wasn't none of their business, and in their part of town, respecting what was and wasn't your business helped keep you from getting rolled.

As the night wore on, the boys drifted out one by one. Georgia went into the storeroom to get bottles to restock the bar. The door squeaked and she looked over her shoulder as Bob said, "Hey, Georgie."

"Need something?"

Bob leaned against the wall and tucked his hands in his pockets, crossing his feet at the ankles. "Nah. Just about to head out and wanted to see if you needed any help locking up."

"Nah, I'm good, mate. Cheers."

"You okay walking home?"

She dropped her box of selections on the cart and dusted her hands on the back of her skirt. "Yeah. I'll probably sleep in the office tonight. I have to finish my paper and all..."

Bob nodded. "Alright," he said as he pushed off the wall, crossing the small storeroom. He cupped her face in one hand and kissed her on the other cheek. "G'night."

Georgia made the customary smooch sound and tried to ignore the feel of his lips and his warm hand on her cheeks. Bob was her boy, the closest to her out of all the fellas in the neighborhood, partly because they had been in primary together and partly because he was a natural charmer. She never thought anything of his kissing her because he was an outrageous flirt to any girl. He meant no harm in it. It was just his way. Still, when his lips lightly brushed from her cheek to her jawline, she found it hard to catch her breath. And then, suddenly his lips were on hers, soft and urgent, and his tongue was sweeping inside her mouth, and wouldn't you know it, her tongue felt the need to send welcome. She allowed herself a quick indulgence—she, after all, had never been on the receiving end of Bob's romantic attentions—before placing her hand on his shoulders and pulling her mouth back slightly.

"Um, Bob?" When he'd pulled back and was looking at her with passion-glazed eyes, she cleared her throat and tried to remember what she was protesting. "What're you doing?"

"All that school and you can't spot it?"

She scoffed a nervous laugh. "No, um, I mean…well, I thought…it's just that…I thought, you know, that you fancied blokes? And, well…I've not got the proper equipment." He shifted his feet and chewed the inside of his lip. He suddenly looked uncomfortable, so Georgia let her hands slide down his arms and dropped them to her sides.

"You want the truth?" he asked. He chewed on the tip of his thumb. "Truth is that there are, sometimes, men that I am attracted to."

"You mean like One-Two?"

He looked taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Yeah, alright. For example. But it don't mean I don't still fancy women. Fact is, I really _really_ love breasts and I don't want to can give 'em up completely."

Georgia laughed and Bob relaxed, grinning. Georgia eyed him for a moment while she took time to think. That mischievous grin of his had always played havoc with her brain. "So you want to shag me because you're nostalgic for tits?" she asked.

"Nah," he said, his smile still in place. He leaned toward her, eyes steady on hers, until he was close enough that she could feel his breath tickling her lips. "I want to shag you because I know you want me to."

Georgia swallowed. She couldn't fault him for honesty. She did want to sleep with him; she always had. All the girls on the block who talked behind their hands and looked at each other knowingly when Bob walked past and winked, it had always made her burn with jealousy. Still, she wasn't some slag who gave it out like ice cream on Sunday.

"While I appreciate the thought, Handsome, I'm going to have to decline. Maybe another time, yeah?"

He licked his lips slowly and caught the inside corner between his teeth before giving a slow nod. "Alright then. Rain check." He leaned forward, closing the distance between their mouths, and brushed a quick, flirty kiss across her lips. "G'night, Georgie."

"G'night, Bob." Was that her voice that cracked? The door to the storeroom squeaked as Bob exited. She heard him whistling as he crossed to the front door. "Fuckin' hell," she sighed, reaching behind her and untying her apron. Her Chuck Taylors tapped lightly as she padded across the concrete floor and jogged after him. "Oi, wait up a second." His hand was on the door when he turned around and looked at her, waiting for a reason as to why she called him back. "Say we do give it a go. Do I turn into some sort of locker room convo and get hit on by every half-bit hitter and junkie that floats in here?"

"The only people who'll know is people you tell. And probably Mumbles because he knows everything, dunnee?" he added lightly. He saw her fidget with the apron in her hands and walked over to her, catching her chin with the tip of his forefinger and tipping her head back so that she was looking up at him. "I'm not after making you do anything you're not ready to do," he said quietly. "Another night, yeah?"

"No," she said, tossing the apron onto a nearby table. "Not another night." She reached out and cupped the back of his neck in her hand, drawing him close and bringing his mouth to hers.

His arms came around her, his hands sliding back to grip her hips and pull her against him and then down to squeeze her butt.

"Ass like an apple," he said, grinning. She laughed lightly, the sound morphing into a moan as he rubbed himself against her. He breathed a curse as he returned to her mouth and licked at her tongue. She sucked at his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck as he turned and walked her backward until she was pressed between his body and the wall.

Her hands slid down, her short nails dancing over the back of his neck and smoothing over his chest until her fingertips felt the first closed button on his plaid shirt. Her fingers worked quickly over the little white buttons and when they were all opened, she pushed the shirt from his shoulders. She kissed his neck and the tattoo that decorated his skin just below his clavicle.

He pulled back and dipped his mouth to her throat and her fingers gripped his biceps, digging into his tattooed flesh. His tongue brushed a sensitive spot just below her ear and her breath caught. He pulled away and took the hem of her t-shirt in his hands, pulling it smoothly over her head and delving back down to kiss a trail from the tops of her breasts to the hollow of her throat.

"Jesus, Bob." She writhed against him, trying to get closer, but her snug skirt restricted her movement. She shoved against him and turned into the wall, waving her hands behind her. "Get the clasp, will you?"

He stroked his hand over the curve of her ass before trying to unhook the little eye closure at the waist of her skirt. He tugged and pinched, but the metal hook refused to budge. "Fuck! I can't get it open."

"Just…push together…then pull it—it's like a bra clasp, Bob."

"Yes, thank you, darling. I do know how they work. I just can't get this one. It's stuck or something."

"Are you messing about?" she asked, her desire making her a little impatient.

"I swear, I am telling the absolute truth. It's broken or something."

She looked over her shoulder at him, but he was looking down, fiddling with the damnable clasp. "Break it."

He looked up then, his eyes intense. He smiled slowly, a curve of lips full of wicked promises, and held her gaze while he gripped the waistband of her skirt and yanked it apart. The clasp pinged off some distant surface and the zipper fell open. She expected him to let go so she could step out of the ruined garment, but he gave another tug, ripping the seam completely down the middle before dropping the scrap carelessly to the floor. Her breath escaped in a soft "Oh!"

Georgia started to turn back around but he placed a hand firmly between her shoulder blades and took his time looking at her. He took a deep breath, as if struggling with control. She felt his gaze like a caress and her nipples hardened, impatiently waiting for attention. With a playful smack to her butt, he turned her around and hooked an arm behind her, drawing her to him.

They both groaned with their chests touched. Bob expertly flicked the clasp on her bra and tossed the thing aside. He stopped kissing her and stepped away, taking the same slow perusal of her front as he had with her back. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth and leaned toward her for another deep kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck again and he lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. She toed off her Oxfords and laughed against Bob's mouth when he stumbled over them.

The paneling on the wall was chilly on her heated skin as she leaned back against it, thrusting her breasts up for his hungry mouth. He drew one nipple between his lips and slid a hand up her torso to tease the other. She pressed against him and looked down as he feasted on her breasts. He flicked his gaze to hers as he drew deep on her nipple and scraped his teeth across the peak. Georgia threw back her head and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. Her hips rolled against him of their own volition.

Bob released her breast and pushed away from the wall, turning and heading toward the pool table. He sat her on the edge and stepped away to unbuckle his belt. Georgia leaned back on her elbows and tried to regulate her breathing. He finally got his belt unfastened and she pulled him back to her.

"Your mouth is brilliant," she said between kisses.

He smiled and caught her lip between his teeth. "It likes you too, almost as much as my—"

"What the bloody hell is going on here?"

Georgia gasped and threw an arm across her naked breasts when Bob whipped around. "What are you doing here, One-Two?" she demanded.

"I forgot my mobile," he answered, not looking at her. He was staring at Bob with narrowed eyes, holding up the ruined remnants of her skirt. He lifted a hand and pointed at him. "What the fuck is going on?" Bob didn't answer, instead throwing his arms out as if to say, _See for yourself_. "Last week you're all hot for me and now I come in on you and the Professor shagging on the bloody pool table?"

"Jealous, mate?"

Georgia held her breath, hoping One-Two didn't throw a punch. He clenched his jaw really tight and the vein sort of bulged across his forehead, but he didn't lunge or do anything outwardly violent.

He wadded up the ripped material and tossed it onto a table. "Just, do me a favor, and pick a team, alright? Christ, Bob, show some commitment." He sighed and looked Georgia over with a quick sweep of the eyes. His lips quirked as he looked back at Bob. "Pool table, huh? Gonna do a little sinking of the balls into the pocket, eh?"

Bob snorted a laugh and Georgia snatched the chalk block off the table and winged it at One-Two. "Get your phone and bugger off."

"Testy," One-Two said, easily swatting the projectile away. "All right, all right. I know when I'm not wanted—shut your mouth, Bob," he added, holding up a finger. One-Two crossed to their table and picked up his phone, tucking it in his back pocket. "G'night, all. As you were," he said cheerily, giving a wave as he headed for the door.

Bob followed him and flipped the locks. He turned around and leaned against the door, crossing his ankles. "You okay?"

"You mean am I still keyed up and ready to climb you like a fuckin' tree?"

"That's the general reason for the question, yeah."

She smiled at him and dropped her arm, hopping gracefully from the pool table. Her stride was full of purpose, his was slow and taunting. When she stood in front of him she hooked her foot around a chair and pulled it out. "Sit."

His eyebrows went up but he didn't argue. He sat on the chair and looked into her eyes as she straddled his lap. His hands came around to cradle her hips. "You are just full of surprises, Professor."

Her fingers went to the button on his jeans and she leaned forward to kiss him while she worried with unfastening. She pulled the denim apart and slipped her hand inside, wrapping her fingers around his hard length. Bob curled his fingers into her hips and tugged her tighter against him as he rocked against her hand. He took her wrist and pulled her hand away. He reached up and palmed the back of her head, tangling his fingers in her hair as he brought her mouth down to his. She shifted on his lap and with his free hand he brushed her panties aside, his fingers seeking the warmth beyond. She broke away from his mouth when he touched her, letting her head fall back. She rolled against his touch, bringing her hands up to cup his head when he started nipping a line at her neck with his teeth. His fingers worked expertly against her flesh and when his thumb pressed hard against her clit, her body clenched and worked as an orgasm ripped through her.

Bob moved his hand when Georgia sank her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and stood. He took a few stumbling steps toward the office before she chuckled.

"Put me down. I can walk it." He put her on her feet and she linked her fingers with his before tugging him to the office. There was an old metal bed on one side of the room that was available in case anybody needed a place to lay low. Georgia sometimes used it when she had late nights, so she knew that the sheets were clean.

Bob kicked off his trainers and pulled off his jeans and boxers before pulling Georgia back into his arms. They collapsed onto the bed, kissing greedily. Bob rolled her onto her back and pinned her wrists beside her head while he tended once more to her breasts. He gently kissed and licked the skin that was pink from being abraded by his scruffy beard. She writhed beneath his mouth, panting curses. He hooked a finger in the waistband of her panties—the only clothes still separating them—and pulled them down. She kicked her feet, freeing herself from the cotton manacles of her underwear, and drew her knees up. Their bodies pressed together and they groaned.

"Now. Right now."

He hesitated, drawing back momentarily. In her current state she didn't realize that he was putting on protection. All she knew was that he wasn't driving into her as she had instructed. Before she could comment on his absence, he was back, bracing himself above her. Her legs fell open and he moved between her hips. He plunged forward, sinking deep, clenching his jaw against the flood of pleasure that screamed through him. Georgia's nails scratched down his back and she brought her knees up, taking him deeper. He withdrew and returned, grinding slowly with every stroke. Georgia wrapped her arms around his neck, crushing her breasts to his chest as she hung on for dear life. The pressure was building again and she wrapped her legs around him as he continued to drive into her. He gripped her thighs in his hands when she rolled him and took the lead. She put her hands on his chest, clinging with her fingertips, and rode him to completion. She bowed her back with a primal shout and braced her hands on his thighs as another orgasm exploded through her.

Bob sat up and wrapped his arms around her back. He buried his face against her breast, kissing and teasing her sensitive skin. He continued to pump into her and she came again at the same time his own orgasm took him. He nibbled at her sweat-slicked throat, grinning when she sighed heartily and went lax around him. She rested her forehead on his shoulder and lightly brushed her lips over his skin. She leaned over, half-falling off of him so that they could stretch out on the bed and catch their breath.

"Fuck," he breathed. They looked at each other and laughed. He sighed a groan and draped an arm over his eyes. He propped up on his hand and looked down at her. "I didn't know you had a tattoo, Georgie," he said, lightly tracing the paw print on the top of her thigh.

"Thought you had the monopoly, did you?" she teased.

He leaned down and kissed her smartly on the mouth before falling onto his back. He straightened his arm out and slipped it behind her. "Come on, then," he said, sighing again as she curled against his side.

"Do you cuddle all your girls after?" Georgia asked sleepily.

"Nah," he said. "Usually we just say 'see ya later' and go our separates. But I gotta see you everyday, don't I? So it's only polite to give a cuddle after I make you come twice." He laughed when she thumped his side. He turned his head and kissed her forehead, gently pinching her eyebrow between his teeth before brushing another soft kiss over it.

_Actually, it was three times_, she thought to herself, smiling. She rested her cheek against his chest, quickly drifting off to sleep.

**A/N2: Yes, I ripped the little eyebrow nip from The Take. It's Tom Hardy, guiz. He's sort of my kryptonite. **  
**Still, hope you enjoyed. R&R if you wanna. Huggles!**


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